


Let the Left Hand Know

by counterheist



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Other, fun had behind closed doors, spain is not the sharpest crayon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-04-06
Updated: 2010-04-06
Packaged: 2017-11-28 16:49:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,341
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/676657
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/counterheist/pseuds/counterheist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><a href="http://hetalia-kink.livejournal.com/13943.html?thread=36897399#t36897399">From the kink meme</a>. Prussia likes being alone. So stop bothering him during Awesome Time.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Let the Left Hand Know

It was a little after his thirty-seventh beer ( _snuck in after fourteen straight Radlers_ ) when Prussia realized that what he had previously assumed to be the ceiling was actually the floor. _Cool_. That explained a lot; like why he could see so many shoes and no light fixtures, and why his head was feeling more like he’d had fifty-six beers ( _and twenty Radlers and a good head start on a fifth of vodka_ ).

He knew that trying to right himself would be dangerous. He’d started the evening on a barstool, right? So instead he did the next best thing.

**THUMP**

There were voices asking if he was okay ( _probably_ ), except they were respectively mumbling in drunken Vivaroaupenc and slurred Asturian, so Prussia couldn’t really tell. He could barely manage his standard German at the moment, and the fact that they had picked at bar in the middle of Bavaria probably wasn’t helping.

Oh right. ‘They.’

The miraculous metabolism of a nation cleared a few of the later beers from the haze around Prussia’s head. He remembered that he’d come to this bar with Spain and France for old time’s sake. Huh. Well, he was done with _that_.

So he scrabbled his awesome self off the ceiling—floor, whatever, and left.

\- - - - -

At some point, the awesomeness of the awesome Prussia entered the building. Several hours later, his physical body caught up with the cloud of awesome that surrounded it, and entered West’s house too. Actually, that sounded really cool. Deep. Cool.

“Atten—, atten… Oi! The awesomeness of the… awesome me! The rest of me has just en… en… is here!” Good. Now everyone would know to buzz the fuck off. Prussia didn’t need any bitches impeding on Awesome Time.

He descended into his brother’s basement. It was a cozy place, not dank at all, and Prussia liked that he didn’t have to pay rent and that West had finally allowed him to have a lock on his door. That was what he got for walking in on Awesome Time. Tsch, West could be such a prude sometimes.

As he walked, Prussia passed his Xbox 360, his Wii ( _snicker_ ), his PS3, and his old bootleg Atari 2600. Every console had _one_ controller each, all dumped unceremoniously in a bin under Little Fritz’s cage.  
Oh right. Fritz.

“H-hey! Frizzz…” Prussia felt around on the top of his head. Nothing. He checked his left shoulder. Nothing. He checked his right… and his hand connected with the second most awesome thing in the room: Little Fritz, his pet chick.

And by pet chick, he meant the most kickass, awesome, badass chick around that you shouldn’t be messin’ with, mofos.

But Prussia didn’t have quite the ability to say any of that at this point ( _there were still about 12 beers in his system. And those stubborn Radlers were hanging in there too_ ). So instead, he allowed Little Fritz to hop off of his shoulder and back into her cage. “Now Fritz. I’m… I…” it was hard to say, since she was looking at him like he had told her there was no awesome left in the world anymore. “Fritz. You’ve gotta stay here for a bit. Yeah. The awesome me needs some Prussia Time.”

‘Prussia Time’ and ‘Awesome Time’ were obviously equivalent phrases. Fritz must have picked up on this, because she went to sleep like the awesome little chick she was, instead of pestering him. West did a lot a pestering. It was really uncool.

Now that that was taken care of, Prussia skipped off to his room ( _as well as he could, what with that fifth of vodka still rattling around in his brains_ ). He placed a slim red rubber band on the doorknob, and then closed and locked the door.

Mirror on the ceiling? _Check._ Drapes closed? _Check._ Time for Awesome Time? _Check._

Prussia sighed as collapsed onto his bed. Life outside was all well and good, but damn if he didn’t like just coming back here and celebrating his awesome. There was no need for anyone else.

He raised his right hand. “Ready to start?”

\- - - - -

Someone was knocking. Loudly, which was odd because Prussia had soundproofed his room. Even West’s techno ( _which he only blared when he didn’t think Prussia was listening, except Prussia was always listening_ ) didn’t make it down here. What could it be?

Nothing as important as what he was doing, that was for sure. “Fuck off!”

The shouts on the other side of the door were muffled. “Let us in, Prussia! Don’t do it!”

What the hell? Don’t be awesome? How the fuck was that supposed to happen? Prussia was _always_ awesome. He couldn’t help it. “No!”

“Your life is worth so much more than this!”

Actually, ‘this’ was quite pleasant, and he’d really been wanting to do it ever since he’d gotten bored back at the bar. “Leave me alone!”

“Brother! Get out of there! You – I— you’re not alone! We are here for you!”

Okay… that would be nice to know at any time that was _not right now_. Because right now was fucking Prussia Time and Prussia Time wasn’t Awesome Time unless only awesome people were invited. So just Prussia then. “Go away!”

“Killing yourself isn’t the answer! Think about all you have to live… to exist for, Prussia! Don’t make Little Fritz into an orphan!”

Whoa, back up a sec. Who said anything about making Fritzie an orphan? Or killing himself? Prussia sighed and got up to address the confusing, unawesome fools that were interrupting Awesome Time. He opened the door a tiny bit, and was annoyed when France took the opportunity to shove it open even further and enter the Awesome Fortress of Fucking Solitude.

This was Prussia’s fortress, not France’s. France had his own. “What the fuck guys?”

“You’re still alive, I’m so happy!” It looked like Spain was still a little sloshed. “Now we’re not going to leave you alone for a really long time, Prussia, just in case you feel like killing yourself again. We can hang out for hours and hours and hours and—”

_Make it stop._

“What your friend is trying to say is that we all care for you, brother. I don’t mind you leeching off of me as much as I pretend to; I suppose I should have said it earlier.”

Hadn’t he raised West to be a _little_ more observant than that? Really?

“Go away. All of you.” He tried to slam the door shut again, but failed miserably as Spain had taken up the position of a drunken, lightly crying doorstop and Prussia couldn’t get him to move.

“No, brother.”

“Damn it, I just want to be alone!”

“That’s what you always saaaaaay.” Spain was sprawled over the floor now. “And we don’t believe you anymore!”

“That’s right. My friend, your cry for help has been heard and understood. We will never abandon you!”

At any time that wasn’t Prussia Time, that might have been really nice to hear. “France. I’m going to say this _one more time_ : Fuck off.”

Luckily, France was actually pretty observant, and began noticing several key things. Luckily for Spain's comprehension of the situation, France didn’t have much of a mind-to-mouth filter once he’d gotten past the third bottle of wine. “If you don’t mind me asking, Prussia… why aren’t you wearing any pants? And why is your right hand all sticky? These are purely philosophical questions, mind.”

Finally, Germany remembered why he’d installed a simple lock on Prussia’s door. “ _Brother!_ That’s disgusting!”

“No, it’s awesome. Now get out; you’re taking up my Awesome Time and none of you are _nearly_ awesome enough to join in.”

Prussia sighed in relief once the three that were able to stand on their own had convinced Spain that no, Prussia wasn’t in any danger and yeah, he just wanted to be fucking alone right now. Damn it, they had ruined his mood, too.

Couldn’t a guy lock himself alone in a room for six hours and fucking finger paint in peace anymore?  



End file.
